Love and Other Battles
by Aneeta Potter
Summary: When a kidnapping spills secrets, Oliver Queen must decide what he really wants for the future, which includes who he wants to spend it with. Of course that's assuming he has a future at all…
1. Fair Trade

Love and Other Battles

**When a kidnapping spills secrets, Oliver Queen must decide what he really wants for the future, which includes who he wants to spend it with. Of course that's assuming he has a future at all…**

**This is set during season 2 but as though Slade didn't come back/has been dealt with already. It's after Roy has found out about Oliver (so basically current but ignoring the whole Slade situation). Oliver is currently with Sara but things could easily change! Felicity isn't in this much but she will be in later chapters if I carry on writing this. I hope you enjoy. **

Fair Trade

"Somebody's taken Laurel," Sara said; her voice sounding oddly distant.

Oliver looked down at the floor and gripped the phone, hard. His head span for a second and he felt nauseous as all kinds of scenarios flickered through his mind at rapid speed. But then he gathered control and stilled his mind, in the way that only people who have been in life or death scenarios repeatedly are able to. He couldn't afford to question how he had allowed this to happen or what they were doing with Laurel; he had to be calm and functional. He was good at being calm and functional, although perhaps not as good as he had once been. There had been a time on the island, after Slade and Shado were long gone, when he had felt entirely cold and empty inside. He had been completely detached from any feeling – pain and killing and death had left him completely numb. He hadn't really _felt_ again until after he had returned to Starling; to his surprise it hadn't been his family that had edged their way into his heart but the team he had built – the team who had quickly become more than friends and more than family. They were the ones who had truly warmed his heart. But Laurel had never really left it; she had always been there with him during his long years away. Even though he was with Sara now, and he didn't need or want Laurel like he once had, he still couldn't imagine what he would do if anything bad happened to her.

"Who took her?" He asked, his voice steady.

"I don't know. There are a signs or a struggle in her apartment. But Ollie…" Sara tailed off, and Oliver knew that what she said next was going to be bad. "They left a ransom note. It's addressed to the Arrow."

"She was taken because of me," Oliver summarised. He felt sick – this was his fault; why were things always because of him? "What does it say?"

"It's just a cell number with 'no cops' written underneath. The envelope says 'Arrow' on. I was coming to visit Laurel with my dad but when we arrived the apartment was all smashed up and the envelope was on the table."

"Are you still there?"

"I'm just outside the door. My dad's inside keeping an eye on things. I'll wait for you with him, inside."

"I'm on my way," Oliver said shortly, before hanging up. He took in a deep, steadying breath. Then he set off – he was five minutes away from the club and a further ten from Laurel's place if he pushed it. But first there was something important he had to do. Without pausing he dialled Diggle's number.

"Oliver," Diggle answered, no nonsense as always.

"Laurels been taken hostage because of her association with me. I don't know who took her or if they took her because she works with the Arrow or because of my personal relationship with her as Oliver Queen." Oliver said quickly. He didn't have time for a long conversation.

"You're worried others might be targets." Diggle responded, quick to understand why Oliver was calling.

"I need you to get my mom, Thea and Roy, along with Felicity, and put them somewhere safe. I need you to protect them," Oliver said. Diggle wouldn't let him down. The fact that Oliver would leave Diggle to look after the people he loved was testament to how much Oliver trusted the other man.

"I'll get them somewhere safe," Diggle said shortly, able to tell that Oliver was in a rush. "Anything else?"

"I'm going to dial a number from this phone in about fifteen minutes and I want Felicity to try and trace it."

"I'll put her on it before we go. Be careful Oliver." Then Diggle hung up.

Oliver found Sara where she'd said she'd be, waiting inside the apartment with her father. She was wearing her civilian clothes, making her look younger. Quentin Lance looked white and worried, but was holding it together. He was a man who knew all too well what it was to lose a child, and he didn't plan on letting Laurel get hurt.

"Has anything been left that could tell us who did this?" Oliver asked, his voice losing its emotion because of the voice changer.

"No. But they were professionals. The mess was probably made after they took her just to spook us – they wouldn't have broken a sweat taking her." Sara said angrily. Laurel was an above average fighter who would usually fight back but she would have been no match for the kind of force they had obviously brought.

"There's no blood?" Oliver asked, not sure what he wanted the answer to be; if there was it could be from one of the men who had taken Laurel, but it could also be from Laurel herself.

"No," Sara said softly. She couldn't believe that Laurel was gone, that she hadn't been able to keep her sister safe.

"Do you know who did this?" Lance asked, speaking up for the first time. He sounded slightly accusatory. "After all, the note is addressed to you."

"No. But I'm going to find out," Oliver said, before walking over the table and finding the cell number. He put the numbers into his cell carefully.

"Put it on speaker," Sara told him. He didn't try to argue.

The phone rang for only two rings before it was picked up – somebody had been waiting. There was no sound from the other end.

"You wanted me," Oliver said, glad at the way his voice sounded when disguised through the voice changer.

"We have the girl," said a voice, also disguised through voice changer. Oliver couldn't even tell if it was a man or a woman. "She's fine." The 'for now' didn't even need to be added.

"What do you want?" Oliver asked.

"A trade. You for her. We'll send you the place. Do not try to leave the apartment before we do. We are watching you," the voice ordered. Oliver instinctively glanced out of the window but he couldn't see anybody; he hadn't expected to.

"When will the trade be?" Oliver asked; he was still processing what had been said. He didn't know what else he could have expected, really. At least they wanted something he could give.

"Come straight to the location when we send it."

"How do I know you'll keep your word?" Oliver asked. Double crossing was often the norm in these cases.

"We have no reason to harm the girl. You can bring the other two with you to oversee the trade. But no one else," the voice said, before the line was cut. The three of them stood in silence for a few seconds, before the phone rang again. Oliver turned off speaker before answering. It was Felicity.

"I couldn't trace it. I'm sorry Oliver, I tried but-" Felicity started, and Oliver could tell she was about to go on a long ramble. He hung up before she could, feeling slightly guilty, but he didn't have time for that now. Even though he liked to listen normally, and that might have been the last time he heard her voice. On the other end of the line Felicity froze as the line was cut, then stared at the floor. She had heard every word of the conversation and knew immediately what Oliver would do. She felt a single tear run down her face as dread filled her stomach.

"It wasn't a traceable number," Oliver said at the apartment, breaking the silence once more.

"What do we do?" Sara asked. She looked pained. Oliver was reminded of when he'd had to choose between Shado and Sara; making a decision between people you loved was never easy or fair. Shado haunted his dreams frequently with questions and hurt; how could he have let her down, did she not love him. He often questioned if he had loved her, really – if he'd loved her wouldn't he have chosen to save her without question? Did that mean he had loved Sara all along instead? It was hard to know what love was, at times. Perhaps he always had loved Sara – more than Laurel, deep down (after all he had cheated on her). Right now they seemed to be perfect for each other – they were both hurt, both knew exactly what it was to have your whole being stripped away through suffering and replaced with something that the people you loved couldn't recognise. They both knew what surviving meant, what killing did to you, what it was to face death and almost lose on a regular basis. Oliver knew one thing – he loved Sara enough not to make her choose.

"Make the trade," Oliver said simply. He wouldn't risk Laurel's life. Not when all he needed to give was his own.

"Thank you," Lance said, and the man sounded so relieved. He had a way to get his daughter back.

"They could kill you," Sara said, and her eyes were blazing. Oliver hadn't let her make the choice but she could still see that a choice had been made; she wasn't happy. Oliver wanted to put his arms around her, let her feel his pounding heart so she would know that the decision hadn't been easy. He wanted to tell her it was partly for her, because he didn't want her to lose her sister because she was too afraid to lose him. He didn't want more death on her conscious. But he resisted. Quentin Lance was a smart man who knew that Sara and Oliver were a couple – he couldn't show that she was also coupled with Starling City's vigilante.

"We both know they probably won't," Oliver replied. It was true – if they wanted a trade that meant it was most likely they wanted him alive. Of course that meant that after a while with them he probably wouldn't want to be alive any more. "After Laurel's safe you can come and get me."

"How will we find you?" Sara snapped, and she looked furious. "There has to be another way!" She looked like she was about to carry on but the phone buzzed. It was a text with an address.

"Let's go. It's a place out in the middle of nowhere. We'll have to take a car." Oliver said quickly.

"We can take mine," Lance offered. Oliver's cell buzzed again. It simply said, 'Leave your phones and the bow'.

"We have to leave our phones." Oliver said shortly. Sara threw hers down without a word. Lance carefully placed his on the table so it was easy to see. Then Oliver delicately placed his bow on the table, internally deflating as he left it behind; but he was quite capable of fighting without a bow, it was only a preference. Sara narrowed her eyes as she saw him leave it, but didn't comment. Then the three of them left and went down to the car. Things were moving too quickly for them to think properly. Oliver didn't care that he had no plan – he would just have to improvise. He figured that as soon as he saw that they had Laurel with them he and Sara could fight and get her to safety, or better yet they could make the trade and then he could try to break out. But for now he wanted to do exactly what the people who had Laurel said – or they would just kill her.

Somebody had helpfully placed a GPS in Lance's car, the location of the trade already programmed in. Sara's eyes narrowed once again when she saw it. Oliver was feeling surprisingly calm about the whole affair – he was used to bad things happening, used to this feeling of not knowing what was going to happen but knowing it would probably be bad. The time before a fight focused him, he no longer feared his battles in the heart pounding way he once had. There was no point in fearing the future before it arrived, because living it could be frightening enough.

The three of them climbed into the car – Lance driving and Sara in the front. Oliver stretched out on the back seat, feeling awkward in the setting. It was still light and he felt slightly ridiculous wearing his greens during the day. He would have quite liked to take the journey in contemplative silence, but Sara wasn't going to let that happen.

"This is ridiculous. I can't believe we're going along with this." Sara said icily.

"What would you do Sara? Not go along with this?" Oliver found that the voice changer made the argument rather surreal.

"I don't know what to do! I need Laurel to be safe but I can't lose you!" She retorted.

"You won't lose me. Once Laurel is safe we can act. I won't let her get hurt because of me!" Oliver snapped back.

"And what if I can't help you and you get stuck somewhere? We have no idea what we're walking into. For all we know they could be planning on machine gunning the car with all of us in it. And they might not even give us Laurel!"

"If they wanted us dead they would have ambushed us, or put a bomb in the apartment. They want me alive. Which means to keep me cooperating they'll keep Laurel alive for the exchange; they won't want this trade to turn into a fight. So we just need to get Laurel to safety."

"This is going to go badly, I can feel it." Sara said, lowering her voice to a normal level. She glanced at her father, who had his eyes fixed firmly on the road and had wisely not said anything for the whole exchange. Then she looked back at Oliver. "Is this how you felt with me and Shado?"

"What?" Oliver asked, confused. His voice came out as cold with the voice changer, which he regretted. This was a conversation he wanted to have in private, with his voice soft. Sara didn't repeat the question; she didn't have to. Oliver sighed. "That was a different situation. It was all in the moment. And only one of you was ever going to walk away. I've gone over it again and again in my head, thought of ways out, things I could have done – but in the rush you can't think. But we're experienced now. That's not going to happen."

"What if it does?" Sara whispered, and she looked so afraid that Oliver again felt the urge to wrap his arms around her. Sara was rarely vulnerable, and when she was it was always linked back to the early days – it was the same with Oliver (because in the past they had both been so vulnerable).

"Shado accepted it." Oliver said quietly. "She knew she wasn't walking away. I could see it in her face. She just looked so tired. Maybe it will be the same for me." Sara didn't respond to that. Her face didn't even twitch. Then she turned away and when she turned back any fear was gone, replaced by cold focus. The two of them didn't speak after that.

Quentin Lance had an eyebrow raised. He had just learnt more about the vigilante in a few minutes than in years. He wondered who Shado was. He wondered where and when the situation they had described had happened. Most of all he wondered how the two of them could carry on.

The drive was about half an hour, but it seemed to pass in seconds. They were out in the country, seemingly in the middle of nowhere, on a dirt road lined by trees that the car's suspension could barely handle. Eventually they reached a bridge, and pulled over on one side. Oliver felt his lip quirk upwards at the location – a bridge for a hostage exchange; how original.

"Well, this is it," Lance said darkly, and the three of them got out of the car.

The sun was getting low and the late afternoon light warmed them. The sky was clear and open above the trees, and seemingly a more vibrant shade than usual. The three of them stood in a line and watched the bridge, waiting. It was a short bridge – only a couple of metres. The location was not ideal – the only road was behind them or in front of them.

After about five minutes of standing there another car drove up, and pulled over on the opposite side of the bridge. The car doors opened and several men stepped out, all heavily armed. All of them were masked. Another car drove up and more men stepped out – Oliver counted twelve in total. But still Laurel did not emerge. But then she was pulled out of the second car, gagged and with her hands zip tied behind her, looking frightened but unharmed. She was pushed to one end of the bridge. Most of the men had guns pointed at her. There was no way to start a fight without her being shot at close range, probably multiple times.

Then a man who wasn't wearing a mask stepped out of the car. As soon as he saw him, Oliver stiffened.

"Hello Oliver," the man said, his voice loud enough to easily project across the short bridge. "Nice to see you again. If you don't mind, I'd rather you took the hood off." The tone of voice made it clear that, despite the way it was phrased, this was not a request.

"Marcus Black." Oliver said with a sigh, flicking the voice changer off. He no longer needed it. In a way he was glad it was Marcus – the man had a twisted sense of honour and wouldn't hurt Laurel if Oliver did what he was told. He pulled the whole of his jacket and hood off, leaving just his undershirt below. Opposite Laurel stared with wide eyes at him. He wondered what she would have said had she not been gagged.

"Very good. In fact, take the shirt off too," Marcus said with a sneer. It was a show of power but Oliver didn't let it get to him – he peeled off his shirt without a word.

"Alright, now can we get down to business?" Oliver asked, voice cold. "You push Laurel over to us, and I'll walk over to you. Then they drive off."

"Alright. I'll give you a minute to say your goodbyes – give Sara a goodbye kiss," Marcus offered with another sneer. At that Oliver turned to his companions. Quentin Lance was staring at him but didn't actually look that surprised. His eyes were drawn mainly to the scars on Oliver's chest, prominent even in the fading light.

"Oliver, who is he?" Sara asked, hurriedly.

"I hid something. He wants it." Oliver said shortly. The days ahead were looking distinctly unpleasant.

"I'm sorry," Sara breathed. Then she pulled him close and kissed him. Oliver wrapped his arms around her and leant into the kiss, wishing it would never end. She smelt of longing. But it had to end, and he was the one who pulled away.

"Keep everybody safe for me," Oliver said, with a slight smile. If this was the last memory that Sara had of him he wanted it to be a good one. "I'll be back in no time."

"If you're not I'll come and get you myself," Sara said, her lips also quirking upwards. The two of them turned back to face Marcus.

"That was sweet. Alright Oliver, zip tie your hands behind you." Marcus said, and one of his men threw the tie across the bridge. Oliver did as he was told. "Now walk slowly across the bridge."

"Let Laurel walk with me," Oliver demanded. Marcus nodded and pushed Laurel forwards. She stumbled but soon found her footing and made her way out to the centre of the bridge. Oliver stepped out, but as he did somebody grabbed his arm. It was Quentin Lance. Oliver glanced at him, confused; the man had been silent so far but now he spoke.

"Thank you, Oliver. You're a good man," Lance said. He seemed pained. Then he let go of Oliver's arm. Oliver stepped out onto the bridge and met Laurel halfway. She looked up at him but he couldn't recognise the emotion in her eyes. Before he could identify it he was past her and at the other side of the bridge. He turned around and saw that Laurel was with her father and Sara; she was safe.

"Get her in the car and drive off," Oliver called across, as three men pushed him down into the ground roughly. One of them elbowed him in the side and he lost his breath. Before he could get it back a bag was pulled over his head and he felt a needle in his arm. The whole thing had been very professionally done. Diggle would have been reluctantly impressed in the same way Oliver was now. What would Felicity have thought? He wished that he hadn't hung up on her; he should have said a proper goodbye, in case he didn't get out of this. What would she remember him as? Would she remember him at all?

Before he faded out, he thought he heard somebody call his name. At first he thought it was Felicity, then he realised it was probably Sara, or even Laurel. For a brief second he swore it was Isobel. Then he realised it was Shado, calling him; beckoning him into the empty bliss of unconsciousness. She caressed his face and closed his eyes and when he finally gave in to the darkness her name was on his lips.

**So what do you think? Please leave a review letting me know if I should carry on with this! **


	2. Driving On

Driving On

As Oliver was pushed down onto the ground Sara grabbed Laurel, not even bothering to untie her, and pushed her into the car.

"We need to go now," She said to her father. He was staring at Oliver, who wasn't resisting as he was roughly manhandled. "Now." That snapped her father out of it and the two of them got into the car, Sara grabbing Oliver's hoodie on the way. Through the windscreen she watched as Oliver went limp – he had been injected with something. She wanted to see his face but there was a bag over his head – his flaccid body sagged against the ground and it looked like he was dead (maybe he was). Her father reversed the car quickly and then turned it around, with some difficulty on the narrow road, and sped away. The armed men didn't even spare them a glance – they were allowed to drive off intact (except, of course, they weren't; Ollie was left behind alone and vulnerable).

Sara turned round to Laurel, who she had pushed into the back of the car. Laurel was struggling, trying to get her gag off. Sara reached over and untied her hands, allowing Laurel to pull the gag off herself (because Laurel always did like to do things for herself).

"Sara, dad," Laurel whispered, her voice hoarse. She was shaking gently – the shock and confusion of the whole situation getting to her. Sara wondered what she knew, if she could help them find Ollie; but first and foremost she felt fear at what had happened to Laurel (because sometimes you could be hurt in ways that you could never forget).

"Did they hurt you sweetheart?" Quentin questioned Laurel gently. He was clearly thinking along the same line as Sara.

"No. But they told me things. Things that they were going to do… they said that they would do them to me but if Oliver came they would do them to him instead," Laurel said tearfully. "Awful, awful things. I was so afraid that they would hurt me. And now they're going to hurt Oliver instead."

"Did you get any idea of where you were?" Sara asked with her voice strong, but inside she was shaken; she had known that Oliver was going to be tortured but from the way Laurel was talking it would be bad. But at least if they wanted information they wouldn't kill Ollie until they had it.

"I don't understand. Ollie is the vigilante? Or was he just pretending?" Laurel asked, not really listening to her sister.

"Oliver is the hood," Sara said simply. She didn't have time for messing around with lies. "He can handle himself. You need to focus and then I promise I'll answer your questions later. Do you have any idea where you were?"

"I don't know. I was drugged for a lot of it," Laurel sighed, frustrated and exasperated.

"Think carefully," Sara said patiently.

"I don't know! I'm sorry!" Laurel snapped. Then she covered her mouth with her hands. "Oh God. Ollie. They're going to do all those horrific things to Ollie and it's my fault."

"It's not your fault, honey. You were only targeted because they wanted him," Quentin said, soothing his daughter. Laurel wondered if Ollie really had traded just because he loved her, or because he loved Sara and she was Sara's sister. The relationship between Sara and Ollie was making much more sense now – the two of them must have been together from back when Sara was 'dead'.

"They're going to hurt him," Laurel told her sister. It seemed important that she got this across.

"I know," Sara said stiffly. "He can handle it. But we need to find him." Because Ollie had been hurt so much that he understood pain, he knew how to face it; but everybody has a breaking point and she hated the idea of somebody working towards Ollie's.

"How?" Laurel exclaimed. "How are we meant to find him when we know nothing?"

"We have a name: Marcus Black. We need to regroup, work things out. Felicity might be able to think of something, she's good at working things out," Sara assured. She had the address of the safe house and she leant over and gave it to her father.

"Who's on the team?" Quentin asked.

"Ollie and me, obviously. Then there's Felicity, who you've met. There's also Diggle, who's Oliver's bodyguard, you've met him as well. Lastly Roy Harper; he's just joined," Sara said.

"Him I know," Lance growled.

"You're a whole team," Laurel said slowly. "How long have you and Ollie… were you together on the island?"

Sara paused. She and Oliver both possessed the same deeply ingrained reluctance to talk about the island. Eventually she settled for a simple nod.

"I don't understand. I thought you said you were separated when the boat went down. Why he say you died on the boat?" Quentin asked, looking confused.

"I told him to say that if I died. I wanted you to remember me the way I was," Sara said shortly.

"But you didn't die," Quentin pointed out. But she had, the Sara he had loved had died a long time ago and Ollie had told the truth when he had said that she had drowned.

"He thought I did. We were separated when the boat went down and then again after we met up."

"You met up? Was this island a vacation camp?" Laurel snapped. She hated that both Ollie and her sister had lied to her.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," Sara snapped back.

"How am I meant to understand if you won't tell me anything?" Laurel yelled, raising her voice. It echoed around the enclosed car. The volume calmed both sisters down, as they realised how heated their words were becoming.

"Look, Ollie and I don't talk about the island for a reason… Things happened to us…" Sara said slowly. Her father and Laurel hung on to every word. But Sara didn't carry on. She didn't know what to say, where to begin. There was silence for a long while. Eventually, Quentin spoke up.

"Who was Shado?" He asked quietly, glancing over at Sara. She let out a long sigh before she spoke.

"She was a girl… she and Oliver… they were a team: Oliver, Slade and Shado. But things went wrong. Oliver had to choose – he was made to choose between me and Shado," Sara said softly, her speech halted as she thought of what to say.

"Choose? What do you mean?" Laurel asked.

"Somebody pointed a gun to my head and at Shado's and told Ollie that only one of us would live." Sara shivered at the memory.

"And Oliver just chose," Laurel sounded appalled. "How could he?"

"He didn't just choose," Sara retorted, her voice low. "He begged and pleaded. Then when the gun was aimed at me he stepped in front of it in desperation; he was just trying to protect me. That's when Shado was shot in the head. So don't judge Ollie and blame him for something you couldn't possible understand. He already blames himself enough." After she finished speaking there was silence as everybody tried to process what she had said. It was uncomfortable, nobody sure what to say.

"I'm so sorry honey. That's awful," Quentin finally said. Sara hated telling him about the island, hated him knowing the things that had turned her from his sweet daughter into this cold warrior. She didn't want or need him to hear about things long since passed.

"It was to punish Oliver, not me. I barely knew Shado. She was the one who taught Ollie how to shoot. I think that's why he tends to stick to his bow," Sara mused. That was again met with silence.

"Poor Ollie. I can't even imagine…" Laurel whispered. She looked heartbroken. But now she was wondering – was this why Ollie felt he couldn't be with her? Did he really want her, deep down

Meanwhile, Felicity was not happy. Oliver was being reckless and, although he probably wouldn't admit it, emotional – he was so concerned about Laurel he wasn't thinking about his own wellbeing. She knew that Oliver was quite capable of looking after himself, and that it was probably better for Oliver to be in custody than Laurel, but that didn't stop her from feeling nauseous.

Not for the first time, she felt a pang of resentment for Laurel. Why did she have this ridiculous influence over Oliver? The second that the thought came she regretted it – of course it wasn't Laurel's fault that she had been kidnapped. Oliver would trade for anyone he cared about, including her? Or would he? She wondered what he would have done if it was her in Laurel's place; would he have rushed to save her in quite the same way?

Diggle was silent as they drove to pick up Moira, Thea and Roy – this was quite possibly an attack on Oliver himself and everybody needed to be kept safe. He had already called Roy and told him to get Thea and Moira to a pick up point; he would simply tell them that a situation had arisen and that they needed to be somewhere safe. Oliver had a safe house set up, which he was sure nobody would know about, in case of a situation just like this. Diggle wasn't looking forward to the questions that would no doubt arise; hopefully this would all be over quickly so that Oliver could do the explaining.

His phone rang and he reached down quickly to answer it, hopeful it was Oliver. But it was Roy.

"What is it?" Diggle asked as soon as he picked up.

"There are people at the house. They've taken out the security. I'm in Oliver's bedroom with Thea and her mom," Roy said quickly. "We've barricaded the door but we're trapped. I tried calling Oliver but he didn't pick up."

"Oliver and Sara are out of range. I'm on my way," Diggle said; for a second he thought panic might set in but then he remembered himself and kept calm. He could do this without Oliver. He sped up, even though driving and talking was always a bad idea.

"What is it?" Felicity asked, across from him.

"There's people at Oliver's house," Diggle explained. He flicked the phone to speaker and dropped it into his lap so he could focus on getting to the house fast. Then he turned his attention back to Roy. "How many are there?"

"At least five," Roy told him. "Armed."

"Alright. Don't try to take them on alone Roy, you aren't ready." Diggle ordered.

"Which room are they in?" Felicity asked suddenly.

"Oliver's," Diggle informed her. Felicity took out her laptop, bringing a floor plan of the house up on screen.

"We're only two minutes away Roy. Just keep safe," Diggle said, "Felicity have you got something?"

"What about the window? Can you jump down?" Felicity said loudly, asking Roy.

"I could. But not the others. I suggested I jump and then catch them but they won't. I could maybe lower them down with the bed sheets but there's two men standing outside with guns and if we even go near the window we're sitting ducks."

"Get ready to lower them," Diggle ordered.

"What are we going to do?" Felicity asked, looking like she had a rough idea and wasn't particularly happy about it.

"Get down," Diggle advised.

"This is a bad idea, but alright. If we get shot I'm blaming you," Felicity sighed. Then she did as she was told; she really didn't want to get shot again. Once was enough to prove her commitment.

Diggle drove straight through the gate and round the house, over the grass, to directly below Oliver's window. Like Roy had said, there were two men standing below it. They turned as they heard the car, and raised their guns. But they weren't fast enough. Diggle drove straight into them; there was a sickening crunch and both of the men were thrown backwards into wall. The car lurched to a halt. Roy's face appeared at the window. Diggle quickly got out of the car, checking that both men were down. They were (although one of them was making groaning sounds).

"Okay, lower them quickly," Diggle called up. Thea came over to the window, gripping the sheet wrapped round her waist tightly. She looked pale and scared, younger in her fear. Roy lowered her easily, his strength making the task quick. Diggle caught Thea and untied the sheet, so Roy could do the same for Moira. Then Roy jumped down and they all got into the car.

"Where's Oliver?" Thea said, at the same time as Moira said "Where is my son?"

"Oliver told me to get you to a safe house," Diggle said quickly. He didn't mention Oliver's current situation.

"Who were they?" Thea asked. "What did they want?"

"I don't know," Diggle said truthfully. He glanced at Felicity, who was as clueless as him. Thea and Moira followed his gaze and seemed to notice Felicity for the first time.

"What is she doing here?" Moira asked, her eyes narrowed.

"Oliver told me to go with you," Felicity said quickly. "In case you needed… technical support." She finished lamely. The lie had sounded better in her head. Moira stared at her.

"This is unacceptable. Mr Diggle, I want to speak to my son now," Moira ordered.

"I'm afraid that isn't possible," Diggle said simply. "He hasn't got his phone on him. But I assure you, his instructions were very clear. He wants you safe."

"Is he safe?" Thea asked, looking doubtful.

"When I spoke to him he was fine. Just worried about you," Diggle said truthfully. Good lies were just the truth with omissions – he had learnt that from Oliver. "Now I'm going to drive you two to the safe house. Roy will stay with you. Then I'm going to go and find Oliver."

"What safe house? Why was I not told about this?" Moira asked, her eyes narrowed. She looked like she was about to snap and start shouting. Diggle braced himself – Oliver really owed him for this.

**I haven't actually decided who Oliver is going to end up with! If you have a preference, please let me know in a review and I'll take it into account. Even if you don't have a preference, please let me know what you thought of this, reviews make me happy. **


	3. Wide Awake

**Thank you so much for all of the reviews! I really love them and they make me want to update quickly!**

Wide Awake

The safe-house was in chaos. Diggle had managed to get Thea and Moira into the 'safe room' (which he had made up just so that he could be away from them) – Roy was inside with them behind the thankfully very thick door, and he was standing guard in the hallway. Using his secure phone he had tried calling Oliver, Sara, even Quentin Lance out of desperation; but there was no answer from any of them. This situation was beginning to feel out of his control. But he trusted Oliver, and knew he just had to wait.

Felicity was sitting next to him on a chair she had dragged over – she didn't see why they needed to stand and pace when it wasn't helping the situation. She was also trying to remain calm, but she couldn't stop thinking about Oliver. She knew that he had been in worse situations than this, but that wasn't making her feel better.

There was one thing that her mind kept coming back to, despite her best efforts to think about pleasant things such as cupcakes; what if Oliver died without knowing how she felt about him. She hadn't even said goodbye (he had hung up in such an Oliver way). He had once told her that he didn't want to be with somebody he could really care about, but that had obviously changed due to his relationship with Sara (unless, of course, he didn't really care about her at all). That, in a strange way, gave her hope; maybe, one day, Oliver could look at her in the same way that he looked at Sara and Laurel. She already looked at him in that way, but somehow he never seemed to notice (although sometimes she wondered if he did, but just wouldn't face it).

Oliver was complicated. He didn't know what he wanted. Felicity thought that he didn't think about the future because he wasn't expecting one – he had been living in the moment for so long, just focussing on surviving, that he had forgotten how to think ahead. This was how Felicity made sense of Oliver sleeping with Isobel – she had been there, he had wanted her, so he had gone ahead (something simple and without complications). Or perhaps he had looked into her heart and seen something as cold as his (except he wasn't really cold inside, was he?). She wasn't sure. Oliver was complicated.

She wanted the chance to unravel him. She could only hope that she would get that chance.

Felicity was pulled out of her thoughts by a knock at the door; it was a sharp rap, not tentative. Diggle drew his gun silently and went towards the door slowly. Felicity's heart pounded; on the one hand it could be Oliver, on the other it could be armed criminals. Before she could try to work out which one it was, a voice called through the door.

"It's Sara."

Felicity sighed with relief. Although come to think of it Sara was probably armed and probably counted as a criminal. Diggle opened the door carefully and Sara quickly came into the hallway, followed by Lance and Laurel. Laurel's red eyes caught Felicity's attention; because she was so focused on that she didn't even register that Oliver wasn't among them at first. Diggle, however, noticed immediately. The man glanced at Lance, unsure at what the ex-detective knew. Lance noticed the look, and realised its significance immediately.

"I Know Oliver's the hood," he said shortly, getting that out of the way.

"Where is Oliver?" Diggle asked immediately. Felicity looked up expectantly at Lance, who was suddenly looking rather guilty.

"Well, the thing is…" Lance began, and Felicity's heart sank.

Far away, Oliver woke up to pain. His head was pounding and throbbing in a way that reminded him of waking up from a Vertigo overdose (which, in turn, had reminded him of the worst hangover of his life). His mouth was dry and there was an acrid taste in his mouth. Despite the way his head span behind his eyes and the strong desire he had to throw up, he didn't move. He kept his breathing steady and his eyes closed; he knew his situation was far from ideal, and being conscious was probably a bad idea. But he needed data so that he could begin to plan his escape (he had long ago learnt that you didn't wait to be rescued or you could end up waiting a long time).

Oliver reached his mind out and felt his body; he was sitting in a hard chair, uncomfortably. There were straps around his wrists, cutting into them unpleasantly. His feet were also bound to the chair in the same way. He was lopsided in a way that put strain on his arms, but he resisted the temptation to straighten up. He was shirtless, because he could feel the rough wood of the chair against his skin (wood was good, wood could be broken and used as a weapon). Somebody had also removed his shoes; his feet were bare, although they weren't touching the ground. Thankfully his pants were still there.

There was a musty smell; maybe damp or mildew? It was cold too, cold enough for him to wish that he was wearing a shirt. He thought that he was probably underground – basements were out of the way and could be well insulated so that no sound got out. In a place like Starling where people tended to be everywhere sound proofing was always a good idea; he had done it with his club basement. He couldn't feel any sunlight on his skin, which supported the theory.

Wherever he was, it was pretty silent. He couldn't hear anything but the sound of his own soft breathing; not even the ever present sound of traffic that he had gotten used to since being back in Starling. He listened carefully for sounds of others breathing or shifting their weight, but it seemed like he was alone. Even so he didn't open his eyes just yet; there could be cameras. He needed to gather as much information as possible before he tried. But his desire to see overcame his cautiousness and he took the risk – he gently lifted one of his eyelids.

It was a pointless endeavour. The room was pitch black. Even when he fully opened his eyes he couldn't see anything. The complete lack of light meant his eyes didn't even adjust to the darkness; he couldn't even make out blurred shapes. Sighing in disappointment, Oliver started to struggle against his restraints.

**Please leave a review and make my day. Keep voting for who you want Ollie to end up with (although through the course of the story they'll probably be multiple relationships). **


	4. A Room Without a View

A Room Without a View

"So you just let Oliver hand himself over," Diggle asked, eyebrows raised. They were all sitting in the sitting room of the safe house (minus Thea and Moira – Roy was also missing because he was with them upstairs, keeping them away from seeing everybody present and overhearing the conversation), all of the curtains pulled closed.

"What was I supposed to do?" Sara snapped.

"Talk him out of it," Felicity offered, not looking up from her computer. She couldn't believe that Sara had let those men drive off with Oliver without even trying to help. "Or you could have done something ninja. You two are always doing ninja like things, working out ways to fight even when outnumbered." Oliver and Sara always had their thoughts in sync – when they fought together it looked like a well-choreographed and practised dance. They made it all look so easy (except, of course, when one of them got it wrong, lost timing for a second; or when she looked into Oliver's eyes and saw something there that made her stomach clench in fear and nausea and heartbreak).

"I did try to talk him out of it, to get us to think of another plan," Sara countered. "But he was right. They had Laurel and we couldn't risk her." Sara glanced over at her sister, who was being very quiet. She was still very shaken by her ordeal. "Ollie knew they weren't going to kill him until he gave them what they want, and he trusts us to find him before they do. We'll have plenty of time, Ollie doesn't break easily. So we just need to stay calm."

"How could he do it?" Laurel asked suddenly, breaking her silence. "Just hand himself over like that. Knowing that they would hurt him?"

"He loves you, Laurel," Sara said simply. Felicity felt a slight stab inside at that; she wondered if Sara felt that same painful pull at Oliver's obsession with Laurel. She felt a sudden swell of pity for Sara, having to compete with her own sister.

"He loves you, as well," Felicity said to Sara. "He would have traded for you just as quickly." It was true.

"Ollie would have done it for anybody in this house," Sara said carefully. "This is everybody he cares about, so everybody here is potential leverage and needs to be kept safe. Although they didn't try to trade Laurel for the information. That means Ollie would be unwilling to give that information for her life, even though he would willingly give his own life for hers."

"So whatever it is he knows, it's dangerous," Lance clarified. He wondered what it was, what Oliver could possibly know that would lead to all of this effort. "In that case we need to get to him before he gives it up."

"Ollie won't give it up. Not if it's important," Sara assured. She was utterly certain. Ollie was one of the most stubborn people she had ever met, and he also had an extremely high pain threshold – that combination was bad news for Marcus Black.

"Sara, everybody has a breaking point," Lance said carefully. "It's just a matter of how long…" he tailed off. Sara didn't respond, and the room fell silent.

"We need to find him so we don't have to find out," Diggle said, breaking the silence.

"I've looked up Marcus Black," Felicity said. "With the name and the description I've come up one scary guy. He's a wealthy and well-connected man, with a long history of hushed up violence." She felt sickened at the idea of Ollie spending time with him.

"Does he own property in Starling?" Lance asked.

"His company owns a lot. But I can't think of how to narrow it down – and to be honest, I don't think he'd take Oliver to somewhere connected to him. He's very careful. People he doesn't like tend to turn up dead, but their deaths are never linked back to him."

"Why did he come to the trade-off himself then?" Diggle asked. "He was named, Laurel even saw his face."

"Maybe this is so important that he feels the need to oversee it personally," Lance suggested.

"He's the one who told me what they were going to do," Laurel spoke up again. Her voice, previously quiet, was picking up some of her old passion and anger.

"Do what?" Felicity asked. She didn't understand (didn't know if she wanted to understand).

"He told me all of the things that he was going to do to Oliver," Laurel said shortly.

"List them." Diggle said. Laurel stared at him.

"Why?" Laurel asked, looking nauseated. "They were all awful."

"He's right," Sara agreed suddenly.

"I don't understand." Laurel said.

"We need to know everything. Some techniques might narrow down the location," Sara explained. Laurel didn't look happy at the idea of recounting. But she wanted Ollie to be safe. She was still reeling at the idea that he was the vigilante. She still saw Oliver as the man she had known before he had returned, and equating him to the cold vigilante (killer) was difficult.

"Please Laurel," Felicity said softly. She didn't want to hear what they were going to do to Oliver, but the things were going to happen either way; not knowing could reduce their chances of saving him.

"Go on sweetheart," Lance encouraged gently.

"He said he would pull out Oliver's fingernails with pliers. Shock him with a car battery. Drown him. Make him sleep on broken glass. Cut him. Burn the bottom of his feet so he couldn't run away…" Laurel said, her voice taking on a deadened quality as she went through the list. "Other things too, but I can't remember. None of those need a 'special location'." The room was silent after she spoke. But then Sara snorted.

"None of that will be enough." Sara said grimly. "He's not even creative with his methods."

"That's a lot for one man to take," Lance said. He felt ill. He couldn't believe that they were going to do those things, and that those people had held his daughter. He didn't think Oliver could take that – beatings from thugs and brawls were not on the same level as torture. Like Laurel, he still had problems equating Oliver Queen from before the island with the Oliver Queen from after.

"Ollie is really, really tough." Sara said seriously. "He's had to be. He knows how to shut down against pain. He'll just freeze it all out until he can find leverage. That's how people like us operate."

"I don't think-" Laurel started, but Sara cut her off.

"Ollie's done this more than once. He knows how to resist. When I first met him after the ship sank he had just been shot and made to pull the bullet out himself with pliers and he still didn't tell us where Shado and Slade were. And that was after only one year on the island. He had four more."

"Us?" Felicity asked, looking confused. "What do you mean he didn't tell _us_?"

"We started out on opposite teams." Sara said, making it straightforward.

"You helped torture him?" Felicity asked, appalled.

"We didn't need to. We tricked him using me," Sara said, awareness suddenly crossing her features.

"You think they'll have to trick him?" Diggle asked her.

"No. We only tricked him because he trusted me. He doesn't trust like that anymore, which I suppose is my fault. But this has reminded me of Ivo's second strategy. Drugs."

"They'll use drugs." Diggle said with a sigh (both from relief at the presence of a plan and in sympathy for Oliver). "We can find the supplier."

"I don't think that Black thought he'd need them – but he sure as hell will," Sara said coldly. "He'll find that out very quickly. Then he'll go to whoever supplies interrogation drugs in Starling. We can stake it out and follow him from there."

"I'll start looking right away," Felicity said quickly, and went back to her computer. It was nice not to have to think, just to work.

"Do you really think Oliver will be so resilient that they'll have to resort to drugs?" Lance asked Sara quietly.

"Unfortunately, I'm sure of it. It's not just a theory, it's well tested." Sara said grimly.

In a basement somewhere, the lights flicked on. Oliver Queen closed his eyes against the sudden glare. His eyes adjusted, and he opened them carefully, glaring up at Marcus Black.

"Make this easy," Marcus Black said with a slight smile. "This doesn't have to be painful. I respect you Oliver, I don't revel in this. But this can only go one way."

"I agree," Oliver said, voice low. "But I don't think it will be the way you're expecting. We both know that this isn't going to be easy for you. So let's see what you've got." Oliver relaxed his body, focused on his breathing, and prepared for the pain.

**Please, please leave a review letting me know what you thought! **


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